


like a flowing wind

by iridescence (10softbot)



Series: the grinch who wrote christmas [4]
Category: The Boyz (Korea Band)
Genre: Childhood Friends, Christmas Eve, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28186248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/iridescence
Summary: Juyeon isolates himself in his family’s lake house for the holidays, hoping to get some much needed writing for his novel done. Hyunjae, however, has other plans as to how Christmas should go.
Relationships: Lee Jaehyun | Hyunjae/Lee Juyeon
Series: the grinch who wrote christmas [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064672
Comments: 4
Kudos: 78





	like a flowing wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anon7912](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon7912/gifts).



> welcome to day four of five days of christmas from yours truly, where i'll be posting small gifts for my friends because i am more than happy to have them in my life and they deserve good things after a rough year.
> 
> **Do not translate or respost my work anywhere. I do not consent to reposting or translating of any of my works.**

Juyeon stares out of the window, watching as snowflakes litter the branches of the trees outside in the early hours of the day. His computer’s clock reads the time as just a little past six, the blank document open before him a reminder that he still hasn’t gotten any work done since sitting down god knows how many hours ago. He tries to blink sleep off his bleary eyes, stretching out his legs before focusing on his screen once again.

He sighs, stifling down a yawn as his fingers ghost over his keyboard again. The cursor on the blank document blinks mockingly at him; he’s had the same file open for three days now, and he honestly doesn’t think he will be getting any work done anytime soon. The sudden tapping of the branches against the window would’ve been enough to startle him any other time, he is sure of it, but he figures he has simply been awake for far too long for his brain to register anything as scary at this point.

Juyeon reaches for his phone, checking for any new notifications. It’s been hours since he last did, and he sees a notification from his mother at a little after midnight asking if he’d eaten and if he was going to bed soon. He almost wants to laugh, closing the laptop lid as he rolls the chair back and pushes himself on his feet; he can feel the terrible ache on his lower back from being sat at his desk for hours on end, and figures going for a walk isn’t going to kill him.

As he makes his way into the kitchen, Juyeon realizes how small he feels in the vastness and the high-rise of the walls that hold up this lake house. The same lake house that once sheltered his entire family during summer vacations and the holiday season but has been closed up for years, the house that Juyeon now makes his writer’s refugee as he escapes the hecticness of the city in hopes some peace and quiet will give him the inspiration he needs to get the new chapter of his novel going.

Preparing some hot chocolate over the stove, he answers his mother’s text with a half-lie, hoping she’ll think he is just waking up instead of having yet to go to sleep. He pours the hot chocolate into a mug and makes his way outside through the back door, feeling a thousand times more awake when cold wind licks at his skin as he stands on the deck that overlooks the frozen lake. He hugs his robes closer to his body, a futile attempt at warming himself up as he sips on the beverage.

The world around him is as quiet as his thoughts. The only sounds Juyeon can hear are that of his own breathing and the creaking of branches as the wind blows – his own bubble of quietness hours away from the city. He picks up his phone again, snaps a picture of the scenery before him and sends it to his chat with his friends; the morning glow is breathtaking, and he figures it’d be nice if everyone could see it.

Making his way back inside, Juyeon sits back down in front of his laptop, determined to get at least a few paragraphs out. The words certainly don’t flow with the ease he needs but it somehow works; his brain goes numb as he writes, and writes, and writes. The next thing he knows, however, he is being jolted awake by the loud noise of the doorbell, chiming repeatedly until he is back into consciousness.

Juyeon wipes at the drool running down his chin, confused as to when he even managed to fall asleep on his desk. The doorbell rings again and he quickly pushes himself on his feet, walking towards the front door but grabbing a fire poker on the way for self-defense; his closest neighbor lives a couple miles away, and there is no reason anyone should be ringing on his door. He takes a deep breath, raises the fire poker, ready to attack, and opens the door.

“Wow, hold up, buddy!” he is met is a screaming Hyunjae as he swings the poker back for a strike, and it pretty much makes his heart stop beating for a few seconds. “Easy there with that thing!”

“What are you _doing_ here?” Juyeon wheezes out, immediately dropping the poker, raising a hand to his heart like that’s gonna do anything to ease it back to its normal beating. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your parents?”

“Well, I was,” Hyunjae raises a couple bags he has in his hold, “my mom sent some food with me. You didn’t think I’d let you spend Christmas alone locked up in this house, did you?”

Juyeon feels like he could punch Hyunjae in the face, but he smiles instead.

“When did you even leave?” he asks, stepping aside to let Hyunjae in. “What time is it, actually?”

Hyunjae slips off his shoes, jumping in place a couple times to shake the snow off his winter coat. “A little past noon? You took so long to answer I’d have thought you left if it weren’t for your car in the driveway.”

 _“Noon?”_ Juyeon walks Hyunjae to the kitchen, helping him with his bags. “God, how long was I out for…”

“By the markings on your face and also the swelling,” Hyunjae points out, a smile spreading on his lips, “I’d say at least a couple hours. You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Juyeon mumbles as he raises his free hand up to his face, hoping the coldness of his fingers will help bring down some of the puffiness. “I haven’t really been able to write much—or sleep.”

“Well, aren’t you glad I’m here to rock your world?” Hyunjae's grin is almost blinding, and Juyeon can’t help but smile; he is, indeed, glad to have some company over. “You can thank me after we eat.”

It is well into the night when they crash in front of the fireplace, the orange glow of the fire the only light source illuminating the living room. Hyunjae opens their third bottle of wine, concentration written all over his face as he tries to fill their glasses without spilling it all over the carpet, smiling to himself when he successfully manages to. Juyeon lifts his glass for a toast; Hyunjae clinks his glass against his, and they both take too big a sip when they knock it back.

“Remember when we were seven,” Juyeon starts, looking from the fire to Hyunjae, “and our families brought us down here for the holidays?”

Hyunjae scoffs a laugh, eyes fluttering closed when he nods. There is a dusting of pink on his cheeks, his neck, going all the way up to the tips of his ears and hiding under the soft curling of his hair. Juyeon thinks he looks the best when he isn’t worrying about how he looks in the eyes of others.

“Every time summer was over we’d pester them to come back for Christmas,” Hyunjae adds, a soft smile on his chapped lips. Juyeon takes another sip.

“That year, your sister insisted they hung mistletoes around the house,” he continues, trying not to laugh at the memory and at the way Hyunjae's smile falters for a split second, “and you so confidently dragged me by the hand to stand under the one hanging by the back door. Do you remember how cold it was that night?”

The way Hyunjae turns to look at him is almost dreamlike – or maybe Juyeon is more than a little tipsy.

“Really fucking cold,” Hyunjae says with a laugh.

“We were in our pajamas, freezing our butts off, and you were _wailing_ because I didn’t want to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

“Now that was just mean,” Hyunjae almost pouts. _“Everyone_ knows you’re supposed to kiss under the mistletoe! And you still did it in the end, so.”

Juyeon chugs the rest of his wine, quickly pouring himself some more. Hyunjae gives him a pointed look but doesn’t say anything, taking small sips of his own glass, almost like he doesn’t want it to end. Juyeon rests his head on the couch behind them, his head starting to feel heavy.

“Do you think it’s weird?” his voice is low when he asks. “Being back here after all these years, reliving the memories from back then.”

“It feels nostalgic, in a way,” Hyunjae says, finishing up his glass, “but I’ve never really forgotten everything that’s happened, you know.”

Juyeon is quiet for a while. The house is now oddly silent, a contrast to how loud it used to be when they’d come here as kids, when summers seemed endless and winters huddled both their families together around this very fireplace. The Christmas of when they were seven was a turning point for him – the realization of oneself and of his own feelings, feelings which have certainly watered down as time passed but never really faded.

“Come on, don’t be weird,” Hyunjae's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, his foot softly knocking against Juyeon's ankle. “What’re you thinking about?”

“What would it take—” Juyeon clears his throat, suddenly feeling his face ablaze. “What would it take for me to kiss you again?”

And Hyunjae pauses, searches his face for a minute too long, and Juyeon is sure he’s fucked up. They haven’t kissed since – not in high school when they were at the worst of their hormones, not in college when they were drunk off their minds and partying until sunrise, not any time after that when the nights got too long and far too quiet. Yet, as they sit in front of the crackling fire, Juyeon wishes they could kiss again, if only just once.

But then Hyunjae smiles – small, soft, familiar, and Juyeon feels his heart skip a beat.

“All you’ve always had to do was ask,” is what he says, and Juyeon knows his heart is about to leap off his chest. “Do you want to kiss me right now?”

“If you want it too,” Juyeon replies, and it sounds stupid the moment the words leave his mouth because Hyunjae is already setting his glass down and leaning in.

Juyeon only has a split second to put the wine away and brace himself for when Hyunjae curls his fingers around the back of his neck to pull him in, no time at all to register just how gorgeous he is from up-close like this. He can barely conjure a memory of how it felt to kiss him when they were seven, but he is sure it felt nothing like it does to kiss him now, years later.

Hyunjae's lips are chapped but the kiss is gentle, his breath fanning hot against Juyeon's face. When Hyunjae starts pulling away, Juyeon is quick to thread his fingers into the hairs on the back of his head and pull him closer, licking across his bottom lip, trying to kiss him harder and deeper. And Hyunjae opens up so easily for him, like he’s been waiting for this moment as much as Juyeon had, like this is the only thing he’s ever wanted to do all these years.

And, honestly, with the way he lets Juyeon crawl into his lap and almost push him into the carpet, Juyeon wouldn’t put it past him for a second. When they part, Hyunjae's eyes glisten as much as his spit-slick lips under the glow of the now dying fire, a thousand words waiting to be said, waiting to be heard. Juyeon smiles – almost laughs, really, pressing a soft peck on his lips, the apples of his cheeks, the tip of his nose.

“Did that do justice to your memory?” Hyunjae asks, a little breathless but still cheeky. Juyeon snorts, shaking his head no.

“It was much better than I remembered,” he says, leaning into Hyunjae's touch when he reaches up to push his bangs off his face. “Did it do _your_ memory justice?”

Hyunjae shakes his head as well. “It was so much better, thank god we had some practice after that one time.”

“Thanks for coming down here today,” Juyeon's voice is almost a whisper.

“I told you I wasn’t going to let you spend Christmas alone.”

They kiss again, and again, and again, until the wine bottle is empty and their lids are heavy and they no longer can control their giggling for the night. They pass out on the carpet just as the fire is about to run out, Juyeon's head resting on Hyunjae's chest, feeling his steady breathing, hearing the thundering of his heart, but especially so when Hyunjae presses a kiss to the top of his head and whispers,

“Merry Christmas.”

**Author's Note:**

> what i say: juyeon stares at the blank page  
> what i mean: i stage at the blank page, praying the words will magically appear
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/changminize) and [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/changminize)


End file.
